


A Slight Change of Plans

by gallifreyslostson



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Reunion Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6376204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyslostson/pseuds/gallifreyslostson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy gets a call from Howard, and prepares herself for another headache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Slight Change of Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andrastesgrace (RoxieFlash)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoxieFlash/gifts).



“Angie, are you nearly ready?” Peggy shouted up the stairs, coat in her hand as she checked her watch.  “We’re never going to make lunch before the film at this rate!”

“Keep your panties on, English!” Angie shouted back.  “You can’t rush perfection!”

“Then how was I able to be ready a full ten minutes before you?” she asked, fighting a smile.  Before Angie could respond to _that_ , however, the hall phone let out a shrill ring.  Peggy eyed it accusingly, like a naughty child screaming for attention, then rolled her eyes with a sigh when it continued to ring stubbornly.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” she muttered, slamming her pocketbook down on the side table in annoyance before picking up the phone.  “If it’s not a matter of life, death, or unexpected pregnancy via Howard Stark, call again later.”

 _“That’s hurtful,”_ Howard’s voice came over the line.  _“I’m very careful in that regard.”_

“Yes, and the gene pool thanks you for mindfulness,” Peggy replied dryly, rolling her eyes again.  “And I’m sure there’s much to be said on the subject, however--”

 _“I’ve got something to show you,”_ he cut in.

That made sense.  She hadn’t heard from him in a few weeks, which, in Stark world, meant he was working on something.  At least, it had since she’d cleared his name, and he’d bothered to keep in touch at all.  At the moment, Peggy was not in the mood for Howard related shenanigans, and closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Howard, I am leaving shortly...hopefully,” she said, glancing up at the stairs again.  “Can we just skip the part where I see your new doomsday device and go straight to me telling you it’s a terrible idea?”

 _“Awww, c’mon, Peg, they’re not all bad!”_ he argued, and she arched an eyebrow.  _“Look at the Lobstomatic!”_

“The device used to crack lobster shells?” she asked, eyes narrowing as she ran through the inventory of Howard’s inventions over the last year.  “As I recall, it first entered life as a hand massager.”

_“Still, it’s not going to kill anyone.”_

“Tell that to the lobster.”

 _“Peggy, please_ ,” he said, his tone taking on a strange quality, as near to pleading as he was likely to get, and she tilted her head.  _“You’re really going to want to see this.”_

“Alright, English, perfection has been achieved,” Angie said, sweeping down the stairs and striking a pose.

_“Who’s that?  Nevermind, bring her along.  I could use the company.”_

“You have quite enough opportunities for company,” Peggy retorted, and Angie gave her a confused look, mouthing “ _Who’s that?”_   Peggy shook her head, then told Howard, “Fine, but if you make us late for the film, it’s on your head.”

_“Trust me, you’re not even going to be thinking about a film when you see what I’ve got waiting for you.”_

Peggy sighed as she hung up the phone, the picked up her coat and pocketbook.

“Come on, Angie,” she said, holding the door open for her friend before locking it behind them.  “I’m sorry, but we have to make a stop before lunch.”

“Ohhh, is it some super secret, national security thing?” Angie asked, following after her as Peggy headed for the street and hailed a cab.  Peggy glanced at her with a frown, then shook her head.

“I think, perhaps, a film isn’t the best idea after all,” she said, lowering her arm as a taxi rolled to a stop in front of them.  “You are entirely too adept at creating fantasies in your own head without the help of Hollywood.”

“Yeah,” Angie sighed, ducking into the cab after her, then perked up after a moment.  “Hey, maybe that’s it, if I don’t make it on Broadway, I could write my own American spectacular.”

Peggy eyed the jazz hands and excited look on the younger woman’s face as she nodded happily at her, then sighed.  “I think, Angie, that you will excel at whatever you put your mind to, by sheer force of will.”

“Aww, English,” Angie said, grinning and bumping Peggy’s shoulder with hers.  “You say the nicest things.  So where are we heading?”

“To see Howard Stark,” Peggy explained.  “Apparently, there’s something that requires my immediate attention.  Mostly likely, his ego.”

“So I’m actually going to meet him this time?” Angie asked.  “I mean, I’ve only been living in his house for a year, you’d think at least once he’d stop by--”

“That was for your own protection,” Peggy cut in.  “He’s been known to have an...effect on women.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Angie said.  “The kind of effect that makes women go weak in the knees, then makes them wanna punch every man alive.  But since being a waitress has already got me to the second part, I think I’m immune.”

“Mmm, yes, I suppose that’s possible,” Peggy allowed with a thoughtful tone.  “Howard may yet meet his match.”

Mister Jarvis answered the door when they arrived at the massive Stark estate, and Peggy arched an eyebrow at the excitement the usually crisp butler seemed to barely be holding in.  The man was practically vibrating.

“Miss Carter, Miss Martinelli, a pleasure to see you,” he said cordially, holding the door open for them.  “Mister Stark is expecting you in the drawing room.”

“Out with it, Mister Jarvis,” Peggy said, ignoring his gesture toward the hall as she glanced around the foyer suspiciously.  “What’s he done now, what is so important that he must show it off at once?  A bomb?  No, too easy.  Something he’s dropped in the water supply that’s going to cause widespread amnesia?  Something he’s dropped into the water supply that was supposed to cure the common cold but in fact turns people into _walking_ bombs?”

“Astoundingly, no,” Mister Jarvis said, his own eyebrows raised.  “In fact, I can say with extremely rare certainty, that what Mister Stark has to show you has no chance of exploding, imploding, inducing madness, or otherwise cause society to crumble in a state of acute panic and hysteria.  At least, not immediately.”

“Well, that’s certainly a start,” she said, then followed finally as he once again attempted to lead them to the drawing room.

Peggy paused as she entered the room and saw Howard already in conversation with someone who had his back to the door.  The tall, blonde figure in an army uniform made her feel momentarily at sea, flung into the past on a tide of regret and missed opportunities that she thought she’d freed herself from a year ago.

“Miss Carter and Miss Martinelli for you, Mister Stark,” Jarvis said as Peggy took a steadying breath, and frowned at the curious way the tall man stiffened.

“Not for me,” Howard said, glancing at them before looking meaningfully back at his companion.  “Well, not Peggy, anyway.  Miss Martinelli has yet to be determined,” he added, throwing a grin on Angie's direction.  “Captain?”

A surge of illogical but unstoppable hope made Peggy's heart stutter before the man even turned.  The face revealed, with the pair of gorgeous blue eyes and shy smile she'd know anywhere, made it stop completely.

It was impossible.  She'd dropped the only remains of Steve Rogers into the East River last May, after listening to his plane go down more than a year before.  There was no possible way he could be here, _now_ , alive and well, except--

“Is that Captain America?” Angie demanded in a hiss from just behind her, and the man glanced at her before his eyes moved back to Peggy, as if magnetized, and swept over her in what she could only describe as a hungry expression.

“Hi, Peg,” he said softly, taking a slow step toward her, and Peggy felt her heart start again abruptly, beating at an alarming rate.

“Steve?” she heard herself ask, her voice sounding choked and far away.

“I know I’m late,” he murmured, looking down as she lifted a shaking hand to his chest, marveling at how real the material of his jacket felt, how solid his chest seemed beneath it.  “Really late.  But I was hoping, maybe, I could...still get that dance?”

She swallowed, dropping her hand and willing some composure over herself as she looked up into the blue eyes she’d fallen so in love with, even when they were a foot lower to the ground.  She arched an eyebrow, straightening her spine.

“I suppose,” she said, proud that her voice barely shook at all.  “Provided that you can keep from stepping on my--”

 _That_ sentiment, it appeared, was doomed to never be finished.  But instead of heartbreaking radio static, her own words were cut off when Steve dipped his head and covered her mouth with his.  She let out a sound that was in no way as undignified as a squeak, but...probably not far off either, and he lifted his head slowly, his lips lingering on hers. 

She’d had dreams like this, a thousand times over, but as real as they may have felt in the moment, none tasted as sweet as this.  And all ended invariably with her alone in her bed, aching for a touch she’d never feel again.  His eyes searched hers as he pulled away, his expression a strange mix of uncertainty and hope as he raised a hand to her cheek..

“Oh, my darling,” she gasped, raising her hands to the lapels of his jacket to pull him down again.  His hand slid back to tangle in her hair, and his free arm wound around her waist, pulling her close as her own arms slid around his neck.  She let out a small whimper she couldn’t even be embarrassed about as his tongue made a hesitant swipe over her lower lip, and he responded with a low groan as she opened her mouth beneath his.  His tongue slid along her own, exploring, and she chased it back into his mouth as she pressed herself closer, desperate for as much contact as possible.  He evidently had the same need, given the way his hands clutched at her, clinging to her.

“I was wrong,” she heard Mister Jarvis say, distantly.  “I fear Miss Carter may, in fact, be in immediate danger after all...from asphyxiation.”

“What a way to go though,” Angie sighed, and Peggy couldn’t help smiling against Steve’s lips as he finally broke the kiss gently.  She hadn’t even realized that she’d gone up on her toes until he was lowering her, his arm still fast around her waist.  “So, anyone gonna introduce me?”

“Angie, I’m sorry,” Peggy said, turning quickly, and glancing up at Steve when he left his arm around her.  “Steve, my friend, roommate, and _favorite_ would be Broadway star, Angie Martinelli.”

“Captain Steve Rogers,” he said, flashing a smile at her and holding out a hand.

“Charmed,” Angie replied, grinning up at him and shaking his hand.  “Any chance there’s a hidden brother somewhere?”

“Not that I know of,” he said.  “Sorry.”

“Some girls have all the luck,” she sighed, then gave Peggy a pointed look.  “Even if they forget to tell their friends about it.”

Peggy straightened, coughing awkwardly before looking back up at Steve. “But I still don’t understand.  I heard the plane go down, how could you...how are you _here_?”

“Would you believe I just really wanted a date with my best girl?” he asked.

“It’s very poetic,” she said, “but poetics alone can’t save you from a crashing airplane.”

“Not with that attitude,” he said, arching an eyebrow, then rolling his eyes and turned back to Howard, pulling Peggy around with him.  “Stark here might have a more satisfying explanation.”

“Explanation, sure,” Howard said, taking a sip from his tumbler.  “Satisfying?  No idea.  It seems that our Captain Rogers, by crashing into a frozen ocean in the middle of nowhere, managed to cryogenically freeze himself...accidentally.”

“Mister Stark has had an unmanned ship probing the Arctic Circle for some time now,” Jarvis said, handing Peggy a drink, and she shot him a grateful look as she took a large, steadying gulp.  “Several weeks ago, we were alerted to a signal that shouldn’t exist from a plane that should have been in pieces.  Needless to say, we, of course, leapt into action.”

“I leapt,” Howard said.  “You packed.”

“Forgive me,” Jarvis said dryly.  “Next time, I’ll be sure to allow you to travel to the Arctic without warm coats.  I do hope you’ll enjoy life without your fingers.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Howard said as Steve ducked his head, hiding a smile.  “Anyway, that’s the story.  Not terribly exciting.  Since then it’s just been defrosting Capsicle here--”

“I’m going to need you to stop that from becoming a thing,” Steve murmured, and Peggy smiled as he kissed her hair.

“--fixing him up, and getting him back on his feet,” Howard continued, ignoring them.  “So, Peggy, glad you listened to me and came over?”

Peggy slid her arm arm around Steve’s narrow waist and looked up at him.  She still felt a vague sense of unreality, after two years of believing he was dead and no reason to think otherwise, still felt that at any moment she would wake up and he would disappear like mist.  But minute to minute, he persisted, solid and real beside her, his thumb moving in slow circles on her waist, looking down at her with a gentle smile that she could see in his eyes.  That smile that had remained unchanged by the serum, the one that had survived through a war that tried to hard to break it, the one she had missed so much it left an ache inside her.

The smile of the man she loved, who she knew, despite only sharing one kiss before his plane went down, loved her beyond reason, for exactly who she was.

“Well,” she said slowly.  “He’s no Lobstomatic...but I suppose he’ll do.”

Steve straightened his shoulders, looking up over her head and nodding.  “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Never could say Peggy didn’t have her priorities straight,” Howard said with a grin, then sidled over to Angie and held out a hand.  “Howard Stark, and you look an awful lot like the girl I’m taking out this Friday.”

“Funny, I know a great eye doctor who could fix that for you,” she said, arching an eyebrow before turning to Peggy.  “I was promised lunch.”

“I took the liberty of adding two more settings to the table,” Jarvis said.  “I assume bruschetta, mozzarelline fritte, and chicken parmesan will be acceptable?  With accompanying wine, of course.”

“It’s a start,” she said, eyeing him.  “What’s for dessert?”

“Tiramisu, I believe,” he replied, offering his arm.  “The cook enjoys...themes.”

“Lead on, Mister Fancy,” she said, taking his arm with a grin, while Howard trailed after her with a bemused expression.

“ _That_ won’t end well,” Steve said, taking Peggy’s hand and tugging her into the hall.

“On the contrary,” she replied.  “I think that’s exactly the dose of reality Howard needs.  Clearly my refusal to go weak in the knees wasn’t enough.”

“I’m sure you tried,” he said, squeezing her hand.  “So, Agent Carter...did I miss anything good?”

“Well, there was a Russian duo,” she said, tilting her head thoughtfully.  “Deadly assassin and a powerful hypnotist, representing a shady organization known only as Leviathan.”

“Of course,” he said.  “Why wouldn’t they?”

“Also, Howard was charged with treason after a number of stolen inventions ended up on the black market,” she added, and Steve sighed, shaking his head.  “Oh, and my coworkers had me answering the phones and getting their lunch orders.”

“They did _what_?”

Peggy grinned at his shocked expression, then leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.  “It’s good to have you home, Captain.”


End file.
